Save me from my Chains
by Stick to one name you lil shit
Summary: John Watson is a sex slave and has been since he was 13 he just turned 18 and was sold to Sherlock Holmes. He believes his new master will be terrible. Another man falls for the young John and steals him away. Will John ever see the man he fell in love with again after that?
1. Sold Out of Slavery

-John-

John felt the sharp bite of the whip against his back again. He fell onto his knees and waited. Then he felt his tormentors hands run over his bare back and down to his waist. He pretended that it wasn't happening. He sat there, naked. _Happy birthday John Watson. You're 18 today. That is supposed to mean freedom. But you will never have freedom._ He felt fat fingers shoved inside of him. He winced but otherwise ignored the touch.

"I'm selling you today. You'll get a nice master. A master who can actually train you." John didn't react to his tormentor. "Are you even listening?!" Again, no reaction. His master took the handle of his whip and smashed it into the side of his head. John fell over and just laid there. Not moving, eyes glassy, staring at the wall. "Fine. Be like that. You'll get no second chance from me." and he was kicked in the ribs.

The man walked out of the room and someone came in and sat him up. They fixed a thick leather collar around his neck. Then coated his face in a layer of foundation, eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner, and lipstick. He was dragged to his feet and pulled him from the room. He was pulled into another room with bright lights.

-Sherlock-

He just stepped into the room to visit a friend when the blond boy was dragged, naked, onto the stage. "Oh, Sherlock. Glad you could make it." his friend said from one of the seats in the private room.

But Sherlock wasn't listening. He was just staring at the blond boy and the smiling face of a kind and gentle ten year old helping him. The last time he saw this boys face he was rushing about a room barely higher than the stove making him hot soup because he was freezing. He had been walking home from school when he was 18 and had fallen into a small pond in the dead of winter. The little ten year old saw him fall in and helped him out then took him into his house to make him something hot and get him some clothes.

He was brought back to the present when the boy was pushed to his knees by the man behind him. The boy didn't wince or cry, he just sat and stared at the floor. His chin was pulled up so that he was staring up at the glass surrounding him and the people inside could see his face and his clear blue eyes. "Bid on him." Sherlock said to his friend suddenly.

"What? Why? He looks like he's too far gone to save."

"I'll pay you whatever you pay for him if you bid on that boy. Don't let anyone else take him."

"But, Sherlock...?"

"Just do it!"

"Okay..." His friend placed the opening bid. There was one other bidder who bid twice the amount that started it. His friend continued bidding, going higher and higher until finally the bid was closed. Sherlock smiled. He had won. He wrote a check to his friend and went to claim his prize.

-John-

They stuck a needle in his arm and he passed out. When he woke up he was in a moving car. He was in a pair of silk pajamas and his head was pillowed on his new master's leg. He risked the look, he looked up at him and saw a lean man with dark hair and grey-green eyes. The man chose that moment to look down at his captive.

"You're awake. I'm sorry they did that to you. If it were up to me I would have introduced myself and then took you home. But I guess it's procedure. Anyway, I'm Sherlock Holmes. And you are?"

"I'm John."

"John what?"

"Watson..." he said the name slowly. He never used that last name anymore. He never had a reason to say it.

"Well, hello, John Watson. We are going to my house. We'll have to get you some clothes on the way there though. I don't want you running around the house naked." John didn't understand. He hadn't had his own clothes since he was thirteen. He had never heard that he'd be free to wander the house.

"Why-" he stopped himself too late. The question was hanging there.

"Why what, John?"

"Why did you buy me. You're being nice. You're getting me clothes. I'll be free to wander the house. This can't be real."

"It is. I bought you because you only look to be about seventeen. You are way to young for this life."

"I'm eighteen. Today is my birthday."

"Then we'll need to go out and celebrate! We'll take you home and get you washed up and put into some nicer clothes than that. And we'll go out for your birthday." John realized that the car was slowing to a stop but Sherlock was still talking. "We can invite Jim. Jim is the friend that helped me buy you. He probably got himself a person now too. He let the other one go. He educated him and sent him out into the real world. They still talk. He'll find another poor boy and help him learn real life skills and then let him go be a real person. We do that quite often."

"Sir, we're here."

"Thank you, Lestrade."

Sherlock climbed out of the car and went around to open John's door. "Come with me. We're going to get you real clothes." John climbed out and Sherlock grabbed his hand. "Follow me, pet. We'll find you some nice clothes." John followed behind the tall man waiting for something bad to happen, as something surely would. Sherlock got out a cell phone and clicked a few numbers then put it to his ear. "Jim. Have you found a boy yet?" Sherlock laughed a little. "Well get him some nice clothes, we're going out tonight. It's my new friend, John's, birthday." Sherlock got an odd look on his face. "Really? Brand new. That poor kid. I'm glad you got to him before he was sold to a monster." Sherlock laughed loudly, "Well I suppose you are a little weird, but you're no monster Jimmy. Okay you take care of that kid. Bye." He hung up the phone and continued pulling John behind him.

"You really shouldn't do this... Master."

"Don't call me that. Call me Sherlock, we're going to be friends for a while. You need to get used to me."

"Okay..." John wasn't hiding in his protective shell anymore. He didn't think Sherlock would hurt him. He was confident that his new master was different from all the others. "Where are we?"

"Oh, it's a small store that my friend owns. We can just go in and get you some things that fit and be on our way again."

"You've done this for a lot of slaves?"

"Yeah, some of them are to set in their ways to change. It usually takes a while to rid them of those ways. But you seem like you'll be easy to fix. You weren't happy with where you were. I saw that when they brought you out that your eyes seemed dead. Which suggests you're either too far gone to care or you are fighting the urge to fight back. I hoped you were doing the later."

"I wasn't." John hung his head in shame.

"What?"

"I wasn't fighting. I had given up. I still don't know what to do. I've never been treated this kindly. It hurts. I don't like it."

"I'll make sure you like it after a while. You'll be healthy and loved again. You won't hurt anymore. I promise."

"Don't promise such things to a sex slave."

"You aren't a sex slave anymore, John Watson. You are a real human. Men can no longer harm you. They can no longer chain you up and do what they please. I won't let them. You are under my care and I'll be damned if they take you from me when I just found you."

"Please, stop." tears ran down John's cheeks. "I don't like this. I want to go back."

"No, you don't, and I won't let you go back. I will take you inside , get you nice clothes, and take you to dinner after we get you cleaned up. You will not go back to those animals."

Sherlock pulled him inside and took him to find things to wear. They shopped around and when they left John had a lot of new clothes that fit him perfectly. He had things he hadn't had for years. The driver, Lestrade, he was called, helped Sherlock get all the things into the trunk and then sat John comfortably in the seat.

"Thank you, Mr. Lestrade."

The man smiled, "You're very welcome, Mr. Watson." and shut the door.

Sherlock go in and they took off. They were only driving for 20 minutes when they stopped again. "Welcome home, John." They got out at a large house. John stared at it in awe. Sherlock took him and all his things up to the bathroom and bedroom that would be John's. "You go shower. I'll pick something out for you."

"Thank you, Sherlock." John said with his back turned. He smiled and walked toward the bathroom over the soft carpet.


	2. Awkward Birthday Dinner

John dropped his silk shirt and pants on the floor and stepped into the shower. He turned the hot water knob and stepped under. the water scalded his skin and he started turning red. He scrubbed the leftover makeup off his face and rubbed at the dirty skin that covered his body until all that was left was a fresh pink layer with no impurities. He washed his dirty hair then turned off the water and stepped out onto the cool tile. He slipped and fell back, he hit his head and there was a loud _THUD_ echoing about the small room. The door flew open and John waited for his punishment for doing something wrong but the blow never came, just the feeling of soft arms and a soft towel lifting him and taking him to the bed, covering his waist down to his knees with the towel.

John was confused, why wasn't he being punished? "John, why are you so red?" Sherlock inquired.

John opened one eye slowly, "I- I'm not in trouble?"

Sherlock shook his head slightly and asked again, "Why _are_ you so red?"

John was even more confused, "I just scrubbed off all of the dirty stuff."

"Even skin?" Sherlock asked incredulously. John nodded not understanding, he thought that was what he was supposed to do. "Well don't do it anymore, you'll just hurt yourself. There are some clothes behind you. If you want to stay here that's fine with me. Jim can bring his kid over and we won't have to go out."

John got up and grabbed the boxers and pulled them on along with the soft, black cotton slacks and a white tee-shirt. He turned around to see Sherlock staring out the window, "I'm done," he whispered and Sherlock turned around.

"Are you sure you're okay with going?" Sherlock asked with concern coating his words. John nodded and smiled slightly, he wasn't sure why he was being asked for his opinion either, that never happened. "Very well, I'll go call Jim."

"Okay," John smiled, he was anxious to meet a boy who wasn't hurt as badly. Maybe he got there on accident and he would have a home to return to. Unlike John himself who was covered in physical and emotional scars, things he could never get rid of, they used him until he broke. And he had no home left to go to, it was long gone for him. He had overstayed his welcome there and was sent away to be used until he died.

Sherlock left the room and came back shortly thereafter. "Are you sure that you're okay with this?" John nodded eagerly. He wasn't used to being asked how he felt but he decided he liked it, after the tough years he's had this place was like a breath of fresh air. "Well then let's go." They went downstairs and out the door and saw that the car was already waiting for them, a slick black Mercedes. Sherlock told Lestrade to go to a restaurant John had never heard of before. He was excited, he was a little surprised when Sherlock spoke again, "I hope you like chocolate, steak, and fresh fish and sushi."

"I think I like it."

"I hope you do because it's your birthday after all. When was the last time you ate?"

"I think I had something two days ago. I believe it was the usual rice and mashed beans, but I think the rice was stale last time." Sherlock was aghast with horror at what he just heard. John hadn't eaten for two days and the last time he had his food had been stale. "It's been a while since I could look out the window."

"Why?"

"Oh, because if I knew where I was I could escape. If not I wouldn't get very far, you know? I think it might actually have helped them keep me in there. I would've gone crazy within the first ten minutes being held there. Knowing where I am but not ever getting out. Well, you can imagine." John watched as they pulled up to a small building set deep into the shadows of the buildings beside it.

"Sir, we're here." Lestrade from the drivers seat.

"Oh, Lestrade, would you like to come in and celebrate with us?" Sherlock said as if just remembering that they were doing something.

"No thank you, sir."

"Well, okay. Come inside if you change your mind."

"Thank you, sir."

Sherlock got out and helped John out of the car and led him by the hand into a small room with tables everywhere surrounded by chairs. The walls were red and it was lit by candles on the tables. It was very dim and it took a second for John's eyes to adjust but Sherlock was already pulling him across the room gently, steering him around obstacles. When they got to a table with two other people at it. Looking around him him, John realized they were the only two in there. It was a man of medium height with dark hair and dark eyes. Beside him sat a boy with blonde hair and grey eyes.

They made an odd couple sitting there, neither speaking, neither smiling. The boy had a birthmark in the shape of a scar across his face. "Jim?" Sherlock said lightly and the man with dark eyes looked up at him and smiled.

"Sherlock, very nice of you to show up. This is Sebastian. He doesn't seem to talk much though I've tried starting conversations."

John moved past Sherlock and slipped his fingers out of his hand. He sat beside Sebastian and smiled slightly, cocking his head. "Hello, Sebastian, I'm John."

"Hello, sir." Sebastian said quietly and stared at the tablecloth.

"I've just been bought too. I hope those two aren't too bad. If they try to touch you, bite them. They won't do a thing about it. We know where we are and how to get away. They don't look very strong, we can take them."

"But- I can't," He looked up, startled, "they've bought us, we have to be good."

"I've never been very good at that. I'm a bad slave. That's why I have this," he lifted up his wrist under the light, there were burn marks from rope.

"That looks painful," to the two men it seemed like the boys were getting along until Sebastian said, "you should have been a better slave and done what you were told. It's no wonder you were hurt like that. It's your own fault, I won't pity you for not listening to your master."

John laughed, "You've been trained quite nicely. I wish it was that easy for all of us. How old are you?"

"I'm 16."

"And how long were you trained for?"

"About two weeks."

"Really? It took about 3 months for me. Worst three months of my life at the time. I then realized things were going to get a lot worse. You don't understand. You've been trained but you're still fresh off the leash. You got lucky. Because let me tell you. If either one of these two dare put their hands on you I'll break each and every finger," John smiled at them at the last statement. "You said he'd be safe and you wouldn't hurt us, if you go back on your word and even think about laying a finger on him I'll hurt you. I don't care what happens to me, but this boy won't be hurt anymore."

Sebastian looked surprised and confused, "Why are you talking to them like that? They're better than you. We have to do whatever they say."

"Never been good at taking orders, I've never really had a reason to fight back like this though. But I won't let them hurt you, I won't."

"Thank you," he whispered and just like that his attitude towards John changed. He was still distant and scared of Sherlock and Jim.

"Well, are we going to eat?"

"Yeah, here's a menu," Jim passed a thick folder over to him.

He ran his finger over the items and saw one he liked considerably better than the others, "They have chicken strips. I haven't had those since I was twelve. That's what I want. You decide too then we can eat so much chocolate we puke," he handed the menu over to Sebastian.

"You were twelve when they took you?"

"No, I was sold by my father on my thirteenth birthday. And I just want a water to drink." Everyone looked at him incredulously. "Well, are you going to order? I'm starved."

"Oh, uh then I'll have the pasta," Sherlock said quickly, "and a peppermint tea."

"I'd like a steak, please, and a coffee," Jim added.

"Can I have two cheeseburgers with the works and a coke?" Sebastian was practically dancing in his seat at the thought of getting a cheeseburger.

"Very well, sirs," the waiter scampered off to bring them their drinks. He came back a few moments later and the second Sebastian had his soda in his hands he sucked it all down. The waiter took the glass back and came back with another full glass.

"Now I have to pee. I'll be right back." Sebastian got up and practically ran to the bathroom.

"Why does he talk to you but won't say a word to either of us?" Jim asked.

"Huh? Isn't it obvious? He's only been hurt by people like you. He's never met another slave who's willing to defy his master to protect him. You just don't understand what he's been through. We have scars and your perfectly unmarred."

"But they never touched him."

"Never touched him? You're so naive. They may have never raped him but I can assure you they beat him into submission so you would like him better," John's voice was dangerously low and his look was like daggers. "And I swear on my life, if he gets hurt I will kill you and take him far away so we'll never be found. If you don't think I can I want you to reconsider. Do you know why I was sold the first time? I almost killed my 'master' for burning one of his other slaves. He wasn't even recognizable anymore. They nearly killed me when they found my holding a pillow over my masters face so he couldn't breath. The pain doesn't even deter me when I'm that angry."

Jim and Sherlock swallowed hard with wide eyes. Sebastian sat down beside him and John turned to him with none of his murderous look but rather one of enjoyment. "Did you have any fun while I was gone?"

"No, these too are boring. We really need to teach them to loosen up a little, before one of them gets hurt." He smiled sweetly at the two men, "You two really are a buzz kill." Their food was brought out and they all dug in. Sebastian and John making jokes and laughing the whole time. John licked his lips and leaned back. "I don't think I could eat another bite. What about you, kid?"

"I think we're going to have to wait on the chocolate fest."

"I know why don't you two come over tomorrow? Is that alright, Sherlock?"

"Yeah, that's a great idea."

"Well then we better go home because I'm tired." John and Sherlock stood up and John was so tired that he fell. Sherlock caught him and supported him out to the car. "You know, I wasn't trained well enough to actually call you master. I was just afraid. But then I met Sebastian, and he's so cute, so I have to protect him even if it means my life. So I am sorry about the threats but at the same time, I'm not sorry at all." John fell asleep and leaned against Sherlock, then he slowly curled up in a ball and wound up with his head on Sherlock's lap and Sherlock quietly humming and petting his hair.

* * *

**(A/N) So I feel really bad about not updating and it's just because I'm lazy, I'm sorry but if you still like my writing I'm going to try and update more often since it's winter break. But I go back to school January 4 and all hell is going to break loose so I probably won't update very much after that. But I'll try my best! **

**Reviews keep me writing so please R&R?**


	3. Falling from a Library

When John woke up he was comfortable, he hadn't woken up comfortable in years without chains and leather weighing him down. But he was under a fluffy comforter and had fluffy pillows supporting his head. He was terrified, what if they were just trying to lull him into a false sense of security. But then he remembered that he had been taken in by someone new, Sherlock, and he was actually very kind. Then he remembered Sebastian and that he was coming over later, maybe he was already downstairs.

John rolled out of the safety and comfort of the bed to face the day. He was more well rested than he had been in years. But it didn't stop him from wanting to climb back under the covers and go back to sleep. He crept his way out of the room and down toward the nice smell in the kitchen. It was tea and pancakes. Sherlock looked up from the griddle that he was flipping pancakes at at smiled at the sight of John's disheveled appearance. His blue eyes were wide and his hair was sticking up every which way. His shirt and pants were wrinkled from sleeping and every time Sherlock's gray eyes took him in he was reminded of the boy from hours ago who slept on his lap as he got to stroke his soft hair.

John looked up at Sherlock and cocked his head, "Good morning," he was being as kind as he could, "when is Sebastian coming?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I don't think Jim is even out of bed yet, he sleeps quite late. And if he's still asleep even if Sebastian is out of bed he can't make it over here himself, he doesn't even know where he wants to go."

John slowly wandered into the kitchen but stayed a good distance from Sherlock. "How did I get home last night? I don't remember leaving the restaurant." He looked up and stared at Sherlock waiting for an answer that would tell him how he got to be in the soft bed upstairs.

"I carried you to the car and then up to your room. I just let you sleep in your clothes from yesterday instead of waking you up to change them, I figured you needed the sleep."

"Thank you."

"Anytime," Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "are you hungry? You can come and get some pancakes. Their fresh off the stove."

"I'd love some," John hesitantly moved closer and was handed a plate with a single pancake on it.

"Let's see if you can finish that pancake without getting sick and then we'll see about another, sound good? You didn't eat any sweets last night and I have a feeling if you eat too many sweets after going so long without any, you'll get sick."

"Thank you," he moved over to the table and sat down staring at the flat brown breakfast in front of him. Sherlock moved by him and sat at the other side of the small table. Sherlock didn't say anything as John took a bite of the pancake. He didn't stare to see how he liked it, he just went on putting butter and cinnamon on his stack of them. "Can I put butter on this?"

"Course, what's mine is yours. And after we finish eating I can show you around. Let you meet some of the staff if they're around."

"You have other slaves?" John asked rather forcefully.

"Oh, no! They're hired help. They help me keep the place tidy, make sure I don't don't burn the place down with my terrible cooking, the pancakes are an exception. That's the only thing I'm good at. But I pay them buckets of money so I don't die. You met Lestrade, he drives me around and I pay him the most, he rarely gets time off. But since I planned to stay home today he might not even be here. So no worries on the front of slaves. If anyone's a slave it's me. I pay them a ton of money, they do some stuff too but really the house doesn't need that much work. They usually just sit around all day and play games, watch the telly, or read in my vast library."

"You have a library?" John asked and stopped with a bite of pancake halfway to his mouth.

"Yeah, when you finish eating I can show you."

John started taking bigger bites and even though he was still hungry and his mouth was kind of dry he just stared at his plate until he was asked by Sherlock if he'd like to go up to the library. He nodded eagerly and followed Sherlock like he was his last ray of hope for sustaining life. When they walked into the room he was greeted by bookshelves from floor to ceiling in the two-story high room. He knew he was gaping but he didn't care. He was in wonderland. He loved books but it had been so long since he had read anything, it hadn't been allowed of him as everyone's personal sex doll.

He moved into the vast room and spun in a slow circle taking in the vast library. "Wow. It's wonderful! Have you read all of these?"

"Not all of them. Some are just there because they really old and the person who sold me the house gave me all of her books too. She was something of a collector. But then she got sick, sold me the house and everything in it and she went on a trip around the world with the last of her savings. She died about a year ago."

"There are so many of them. And I can read any of them?"

"Yeah, there's nothing off limits to you, this is your house too. There's a catalogue over there, has every book in alphabetical order. It's really lovely in here. It smells like a very old library with a thousand books. And it's quiet, the books muffle all of the sounds. It's a nice place to go to think, don't you say?" as he was speaking John wandered over to the catalogue and started thumbing through the pages looking for a book to catch his eyes. "I'll leave you here and wait for Jim and Sebastian to get here."

John wasn't listening anymore. He saw a book that he really wanted to find. _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, _he hadn't read that since he was young. Before he was dragged off to his miserable new life as a sex slave. He found the number and the shelf and he went searching for the right one, as far as he knew the others wouldn't be coming to look for him for a while. So he lazily walked examining the books on the lower shelves, running his fingers over the spines of disused books. He was in heaven, not only did the man that bought him seem like a wonderful man but he also had this brilliant collection of books, and John was allowed to read all of them. He found the shelf at the back with the number 24 on the side and a tall ladder, with wheels on the bookshelf and on the carpeted floor, beside it. He looked around the bottom shelf for a moment and realized he would have to go higher. He moved the ladder to the middle of the shelf on it's wheels and started the climb about a story up he saw numbers that should be close to the book number he was looking for.

Sure enough just outside of his reach was an old greenish book with curly script on the side declaring it to be the book he was looking for. He tried rolling the ladder but it seemed to be stuck so instead he placed one foot on the bookshelf and one hand, he moved slowly, getting his other hand and foot onto the bookshelf and he cautiously moved hand over hand until his face was inches from the book. He pulled it out delicately and started shuffling his feet along the shelf holding him up. His toe caught on a book and he lost his grip on the the shelf under his fingers, he crashed to the floor, knocking all the breath out of his as he heard someone call out. There were several feet pounding towards him, he was in pain so he just curled in the fetal position around his book and tried to get his breath back.

He was gasping and choking as a pair of hands gently pulled him up off the floor, they were talking but John couldn't hear over the pain that was starting to thump behind his eyes. He was laying down on a sofa with people talking around him and someone's head against his side when he could focus on what they were saying. He sat up slowly and looked down at the head beside his hip, he was slightly disappointed to see that it was Sebastian but he couldn't figure out why. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and when he opened them he saw Sebastian, Jim, and Sherlock staring at him worriedly.

"Are you okay?" Sebastian stared up at him with his big eyes.

"I'm fine, just got the breath knocked out of me is all. I really should be more careful. But the ladder wouldn't move any farther, so I just climbed on the bookshelf to get to the book I was looking for. And I didn't break anything, I'm tougher than I look. That fall was nothing compared to..." he trailed off as he realized that the others didn't look too fond of the idea of hearing that story. "Well, maybe another time, yeah?"

"That was dangerous, you could have really been hurt," Jim probably looked the most worried, maybe something bad had happened like this at his house before and someone got hurt.

"Well, at least you got your book." Sherlock sounded tired. It was the fact that John had only been here for a day and he had almost killed himself. It was really going to a handful to look after this child. "Why couldn't you have just climbed down the ladder and rolled it over from down there? Maybe it would have spared us the trouble."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. But I haven't read anything in years. I really wanted to read that, I haven't read it since I was a child. It's not really a big deal to keep up with reading when really the only use I've been for six years is to climb into bed with men I don't even know." he couldn't keep the anger out of his voice when they were acting as if he were such a big nuisance. "And you know, I didn't ask you to bring me here. You could just let me go. I'd find a way to survive. You don't have to put up with me."

"I know I don't have to. But I want to." Sherlock ran a hand over his face, "I'm going to go get some tea. Does anyone want any?"

There were nods from everyone except John, he was staring at his clasped hands and refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "Is that what it would have been like for me, John?" as John looked up to tell Sebastian that yes, he would have been dirty and violated for as long as he was useful but then he saw the tears streaking down the younger boys face.

"Probably, but you don't have to worry about that, Jim will take care of you. None of us would let anything bad happen to you. I promise." John reached out and petted Sebastian's hair softly. "You'll never have to go through the things I did. I swear on y life, you will be fine for the rest of your life." John crossed his legs and pulled Sebastian up onto the couch beside him, and smiled gently, "You believe me, don't you?"

Sebastian just nodded and leaned his head against John's shoulder. 'Thank you' Jim mouthed at him. He looked relieved, apparently it wasn't odd for Sebastian to be crying. John couldn't blame him though. Sherlock came back into the room carrying a tray of tea with four cups. Everyone made a cup and John and Sebastian wandered over to the catalogue to see if there were any books Sebastian liked.

* * *

Sherlock sighed and put his head in his hands. This was not the best first day he'd had with a new ward, but it was the first time he had history with the boy he took in. He didn't understand how that cute little boy that had rescued him from freezing had turned into the feisty boy who would probably let him die if he met him like he did all those years ago. But he did understand, at least a little, it was whatever had happened after they parted ways. His father was scary the only time he met him but John had smiled and said 'Daddy look, I found him freezing and I brought home a stray! Like a cat.' Sherlock had scoffed at that when it was said but he would do anything to have that beautiful boy say it about him now.

"You didn't have to snap at him like that. Now he'll dislike you even more."

"I couldn't help it. He fell from about a story up, Jim, and he acted like it was nothing. I was so worried. Do you know why I told you I wanted him no matter what?"

"No, I just thought you liked the way he looked, he certainly is beautiful."

"He is but that isn't why. When he was 10 he saved my life. I was walking home from class when I was 18 and fell into a pond. I still had a mile to walk to make it home. But he took me into his home and gave me clothes to wear and gave me tea and made me soup. Then he begged his father to drive me home. From what I gathered from the news later in the week he had been murdered in front of his 10 year old son and 15 year old daughter. They were carted off to live with their mother after that. Now I find out that she sold her son, so what happened to her daughter? Probably the same. I had to help him, because when he was 10 he helped me."

"Oh, Sherlock, it's sounds as if you really like him."

"I liked what I thought he would turn out like. That boy wants nothing to do with me and he is nothing like the boy I imagined. I thought everything would be okay if he came to live with me, but it's only the first day and he's almost killed himself."

"He's not even scratched, Sherlock. Get to know him. Maybe you'll some to like him."

"I do like him. That's the problem. I like him too much. When I saw him and then when I met him I just can't stop thinking about him. I'm going to stay away from him. That's the only thing I can do. I tried being nice and he hated me. So maybe if I'm mean to him it won't hurt so much... Knowing that the little boy who once saved me is now an adult who doesn't care for anything."

"How do you expect him to be? He's been abused for years, Sherlock. He'll get better, that's what you were hoping in buying him and bringing him here, right?"

"I brought him here to thank him, but he doesn't even remember me."

"You're wrong," Sherlock's head snapped up. "I do remember you, vaguely. If you're wondering what happened to my sister, she died. My mother sold me into slavery to pay for my sister's funeral. She always liked her better. Dad would have never allowed either of us to be sold. But he's dead, my mother and my sister we drug addicts the last time I checked. That's how my sister died. And I'm sure my mother used the money she got from me to buy more drugs, she probably didn't even give her daughter a funeral."

Sherlock sighed, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I know. But I don't blame you for that. I just came to tell you that we're going to get a book. But I'm going to use the ladder this time," with that he walked away leaving the flabbergasted adults.

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**(A/N) I apologize for the wait but I'm getting it up now. I have an idea of where this is heading but if there's anything you want to see happen you can message me. I'm not even sure how to go about writing the next chapter. So if anyone wants to help just send me a review and tell me what to do! Hope you like it!**


	4. Rehashing Old Wounds

**(A/N) Sorry for the long wait, I know most of you have given up on me, but I have an honest reason, school has been picking up speed and rolling downhill at about 500 mph. But I just hit a slowing point. I have two days until I'm out for Summer, then I can try to update more often. **

**Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING! **

* * *

John and Sherlock didn't even look at each other for the rest of the day. Sherlock felt discouraged and John felt bad. He felt bad for pretending to forget anything and everything about Sherlock. But he couldn't face his old life, it was over. He would only fuck himself up even more if he thought about it.

But with the happening of the the day he thought back to the day he left home.

* * *

_His sister was leaving, she needed her fix. Mum was asleep, and John had nothing to do but wait until his sister got home. He hated them both, his mother and his sister. He missed the life he had with his father. He had been strict but he had also loved his children more than life itself. Waiting got boring, so he made food and turned on the tv. He fell asleep once he finished the muck on his plate. _

_It was very old leftovers, he had nothing else to eat, there was never any money for food unless he went out and made something. His sister would sometimes bring money home and she would take him out to eat. Smiling was a thing of the distant past. He was woken up by the ringing of the doorbell. He ran over assuming it was his sister's friends. But when he opened the door he was brought face-to-face with a police officer, Officer Anderson. It was one he knew well, he had helped him get his mom and sister out of trouble a lot of times. _

_"John, I'm so sorry, it's your sister, she overdosed. They did everything they could, she's dead." Upon hearing those words he felt relief mixed with sadness._

_"I'll tell mum, don't you worry. I can come by later to see you and Sally, she'll want to know how mum takes it."_

_He nodded and walked away, he and his wife would wait all night but the promised face never appeared. His mother had sold him to a prostitute ring for a measly 1000 dollars. And she probably would overdose within a day or two after. _

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The memories played through his head as he talked and laughed with Sebastian and giggled at Jim and his efforts to be normal, which were piss-poor attempts at best. But he gave both boys bits of chocolate and John tried to help Sebastian grow accustomed to Jim and his odd quirks. He was rather good at making friends but he was terrible at trusting.

It was the same as with all the other slaves Jim and Sherlock saved from their past lives. Jim tried to be sociable but he wasn't very good. He had been spoiled for his entire life, he was never given up on. People believed in him and helped his rise to his full potential. John and Sebastian never had that chance. They were given up by someone close to them.

"Do you have internet somewhere in this vast house?" John asked with a smile and exaggerated eye roll. Jim looked to Sherlock for an answer, if he could show him where he could find the computer. But Sherlock ignored the conversation entirely. Jim chuckled and led them to the study, where there was a computer setup with internet. Jim bowed and kissed his hand. "You should go make sure he isn't going to sulk all night. I don't think I could put up with it. He can't honestly believe he has any right to. Tell him if he doesn't stop pretending that his life is hard that I will go home with Sebastian and never speak to him again."

Jim smiled apologetically, "I'm very sorry for him, he gets like this sometimes, he's a genius, but he isn't very good at emotion."

"That's apparent."

Jim left the two of them alone and they sat down and pulled up the internet, Sebastian was puzzled why he had suddenly asked about internet. "What is so important?"

"I need to check up on someone. Easiest way is through the power of the world-wide web." He pulled up google and slowly typed in 'Watson, John'. A few things popped up, some having nothing to do with him. Then he saw one and clicked it:

**Boy Goes Missing After sister Dies**

**Late Monday the other evening a police officer close to the family realized that John Watson (13), was missing. He went to his home and found his mother had overdosed on Meth, Speed, and Cocaine. **

There was a picture for when he was with his father. They had gone to the amusement park. He was smiling at the camera, he remembered that they were laughing at his sunburn. He had been wearing ten coats of waterproof sunscreen but he still managed to turn bright red. He went back to the google page and typed in 'Anderson, Sally' the result was a obituary:

**Police Officer Brutally Murders Wife, Then Kills Himself**

**Three days after the disappearance of 13-year-old John Watson, Officer Anderson, the family friend who found his mother dead and realized he was missing violently beat and killed his wife of 2 years, Sally Donovan Anderson. He then wrote a note saying goodbye, and that he was sorry. He had called his supervisor 5 hours earlier saying he got a lead in the case in finding John. He said in the note that the lead didn't pan out and he couldn't do it. He shot himself to death with his police issue gun. Their funerals are set for this Saturday.**

There was a picture of Sally and her new husband at their wedding. It was unbelievable to John, they were so happy when he knew them. They were so in love, there was no way that Anderson would kill his wife. He loved Sally, she was his life. They were so in love, even up until the last day he saw them. Tears slowly dripped down his cheeks landing on the keyboard in front of him.

"John, are you alright? Are these your friends?" he nodded as he backed out again.

He typed one last name, 'Watson, Harriet' he searched through the results and finally found one of his sister:

**Local Teen Overdoses**

**Harriet Watson(16), called Harry by her friends and family, died from an overdose of bad heroin on Monday mere hours before her brother disappeared. Sources say she and her brother were close, they grew up with their father though, so they hardly knew their mother. But the rest of the neighborhood knew that she was prone to be under the influence of drugs at any given moment during the day. **

**"Harry was wonderful," a school friend reports, "I was the first one who met her. I went over the first day they arrived and we went and had tea at my house. She loved her brother, she was protective of him. She told me privately the story of what happened to her father. He died in front of John. He was murdered. It was a miracle he wasn't also killed. The both of them were miserable, but they were happy. Because they got to meet their mother, and they had each other. John didn't run away. He wouldn't. He would do anything for his sister. You didn't know him." **

**Several other people say they saw John and Harry's mother dragging John out of the house and to the car. Nobody saw when she got back, but when the police broke into the house to check on John and his unstable mother, there was no sign of John, at the time of them going into the house they were informed that Harry's body had been stolen from the morgue. Their mother had stolen the body and tucked her into bed before sitting down to more meth, heroin, and cocaine ever found in a home in the quiet town. **

John stopped reading and stared at the screen. His crazy mother had stolen his sisters body from the morgue after she sold him. He remembered watching her walk away and he hated her back, the way she walked, the way her brittle hair swished across her shoulders, he hated everything about her.

"Is there someone you want to check on? See what happened to your mother maybe?"

"Can you just type in 'Moran'?" He shrugged and typed it quickly. There was only one article about a boy so he clicked it:

**Millionaire Boy Goes Missing**

**Sixteen-year-old Sebastian Moran went missing last week while his family was away. The last one to see him was his boyfriend, Micheal (15). He says that when he saw him that he said something about hating all the money. He wanted to get away from it all. It was later discovered that Micheal had a lot of explainable money, when questioned extensively he broke down and said that Sebastian broke up with him and he sold him. He refused to tell who he sold him to until he had a deal laid out in front of him. **

**On his way to the courthouse he was shot in the head, the killer then took his own life. The search for the Sebastian continues, if anyone has any information on him contact his mother through her email or cell phone. **

**Email: Lizzy-dot-Moran-at-moranindustries-dot-com  
Cell: 555-555-3029**

"So, you're a millionaire?"

"So, your mother sold you for drugs?"

John chuckled, "Fair enough. We're both pretty fucked up. We got sold by people we thought we could trust, yeah?"

"Yeah... Only, you've been gone for so long that there isn't anyone left to welcome you home."

"At least you have a home."

"No, I don't... He wasn't lying. I did want to run away, but he sold me because I refused to wire him all of my $900 million. His family was going under, I would have helped. But he wanted to get it some other way than charity, so I told him to fuck off. I planned on anonymously wiring his family money. But, he didn't give me a chance. He wanted me dead. He was going to kill me."

"I wish my mother would have killed me instead of selling me. My life has been a hell for so long, I wish I had never gotten sold in the first place. I wish I had been the one to overdose on bad heroin. But then my sister would be worse off. There is huge market for petite, young girls with blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Is it less so with boys?"

"For some it's a huge turnoff to have a boy, even if he does have blonde hair and blue eyes. I remember going to a few auctions and then having to back to my previous owner because nobody bid. He ended up selling me to a friend, he opted to send me to the ring first because he could make more money if the person buying me didn't know that I tried to bite his dick off."

"You tried to bite his dick off?"

"You would too if you were being forced to hold it at the back of your throat and you couldn't breathe. Of course I also did it because he was a sadist. Quite enjoyed BDSM. And he was always the top."

"What does that stand for?"

"BDSM? Bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, and sadomasochism."

"There aren't enough letters for that."

"BDSM is a collection of three different individual groups shortened. Instead of BDDSSM they take out the double letters and make it all one. But sometimes it's just BD, DS, or SM. It's all pretty kinky, personally, not my cup of tea."

"Is anything sex related your cup of tea? How does any of it please you?"

"Well, oral is good as long as you aren't being forced to hold your breath while somebody's dick is making you gag."

The door behind them opened and instead of looking up they just continued your conversation. "Were you ever bought by somebody that did give you pleasure?"

"Oh, yes, I had an owner who only liked pleasing his slaves. Wasn't much into having himself sucked off or anything. And while we weren't allowed to leave the house we were still able to roam the underground floors. It was an apartment for all of his slaves. There was plenty of food, and it was good expensive food. That was when I was still pretty fresh though."

"That sounds awful and wonderful at the same time."

"It would sound awful to you, because you were were only trained, you never had a sadomasochistic relationship, where you were the bottom, unwillingly. When you have an owner who feeds you and only likes to give pleasure and never sells slaves, you're in heaven."

"If he never sold slaves, why did you not stay with him?"

"Oh, he was murdered, and all the slaves were dragged out into the street and publicly raped."

"By who?"

"Members of the church, who were also involved in the sex ring and didn't approve of his tactics."

"Were you ever bought by a woman?"

"Yes, several times, actually. They sometimes buy slaves to keep in their basement while their husbands are away, or they're single and they don't want a real relationship, so they buy several young sex slaves and invite their older, single friends over and let them have at young boys. Not as fun as it sounds. Unless of course you get a nice one, who fucks a few boys at a time, until she's completely spent. Or she keeps you around until you're much older and sells all the slaves she doesn't want and keeps you only. I had friends who told me about it. You meet some lovely people and you also meet some horrifying people."

Sebastian was beginning to look distraught at the things coming out of John's mouth. So Jim, who had wandered in, went over and started trying to redirect their attention. "I was just talking to Sherlock and he's going to get out every sweet thing he owns, you wanted to have a party with so many sweets that you puked, right?"

John noticed how his words had affected Sebastian and he wanted a way to take his attention off of the stories, so when Jim suggested a sweet party John jumped at the chance. "Sebastian, you haven't had sweets in a while, right? Let's go eat all of it, and then we can make those two go out to get us more. That sound good?"

Sebastian's eyes were like saucers as he looked at Jim and asked, "Does he have fudgesicles? Those are my all-time favorite sweet."

"I'm sure he does, let's go ask. And if he doesn't we can go to the store and get a lot, and we can get more to take home with us. How does that sound?"

"Delicious."

John laughed slightly at Sebastian's wide eyes and anticipating expression. "I always really loved fudgesicles. If he has any I'll eat them all." Sebastian could tell that he was only joking so he played along.

"I will fucking fight you for them."

"I'll beat you there!"

"That's not fair! I haven't been to the kitchen yet!" he was making an adorably enraged face.

"Fine, you can have a head start and a guide. Jim, do you mind?" there was a shine in John's eye that said not to refuse, so he graciously accepted and grabbed Sebastian's hand, Sebastian stiffened but before Jim could pull away John shouted, "ONE, TWO, THREE! You better go before I change my mind!" He winked at Jim and pushed Sebastian out of his seat and into Jim.

His face lit up and he looked at Jim with a brilliant smile, "Hurry up! We have to beat him!" Jim smiled and started pulling Sebastian forward. They took off out of the room leaving John with a crooked smile on his face.

The smile slipped and he was suddenly standing alone reliving the day his sister was found overdosed, with Anderson standing at his door. The more he tried to remember Anderson's name the more it alluded him. He finally realized that every time he learned his name he would be asked to just call him Anderson. He hated his first name, so not even Sally called him by it. Nobody in town did either. It was always Andy, Anderson, or Anders.

He slowly followed after the two that had run out of the room connected by interlocked fingers. John wished with all of his heart that they could get used to each other and live happily. He wanted, no, needed, Sebastian to be happy, to always be safe and to never be scarred and marred like he knew he was. If he ran his fingers over his skin he would feel indents and bumps indicating what happened on that place of his body.

It still pained him, though the physical pain was long gone. He figured it would always hurt. Would always be disgusting to him. Would always haunt him. He almost wished he had the courage for suicide, because the physical and mental scars he had would haunt him for the rest of his days.

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**(A/N): Don't hate me for shit writing. I know it's been a while, but with school nearing it's close for summer I'm getting pretty bogged down. I have two days left and then I'll try and update more often. You're lucky I got it out tonight, because I have four tests tomorrow and I'm getting back my term paper scores. I got my ACT scores back and I ended up with a 25 before Work Keys. But I know I'll be quite alright. **

**Welp, that's all. Hope you enjoy, and if you don't please don't hunt me with pitchforks. I know I've been really contrary, but I have a hard time remembering my initial story of what happened to him. But I have settled this in place and I hope it helps, cause the last chapter sucked bull nuts. **

***Prances away***


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